‘Be shamed yet once again,’ I whispered; then I saw the light of gladness master the misty sorrow in her eyes as I had seen once before; and I greeted it, whispering: ‘Yes, a thousand times, a thousand times!’ ‘My dear lord!’ she said; but then she sprang back, and the brightness was clouded again as she stood aloof, regarding me in speechless, distressed puzzle. ‘But, my lord!’ she murmured, so low that I scarcely heard. Then she took refuge in a return to her request. ‘You won’t leave me here, will you? You’ll take me somewhere where I can be safe. I--I’m afraid of these men, even though the Pasha is dead.’ I took no notice of the request she repeated. I seemed unable to speak or to do anything else but look into her eyes; and I said, a touch of awe in my voice: ‘You have the most wonderful eyes in all the world, Phroso.’ ‘My lord!’ murmured Phroso, dropping envious lids. But I knew she would open them soon again, and so she did. ‘Yes, in all the wide world,’ said I. ‘And I want to hear it again.’ As we talked we had moved little by little; now we were at the side of the house, in the deep dull shadow of it. Yet the eyes I praised pierced the gloom and shone in the darkness; and suddenly I felt arms about my neck, clasping me tightly; her breath was on my cheek, coming quick and uneven, and she whispered: ‘Yes, you shall hear it again and again and again, for I am not ashamed now; for I know, yes, I know. I love you, I love you--ah, how I love you!’ Her whispers found answer in mine. I held her as though against all the world: all the world was in that moment, and there was nothing else than that moment in all the world. Had a man told me then that I had felt love before, I would have laughed in his face--the fool! But then Phroso drew back again; the brief rapture, free from all past or future, all thought or doubt, left her, and, in leaving her, forsook me also. She stood over against me murmuring: ‘But, my lord--!’ I knew well what she would say, and for an instant I stood silent. The world hung for us on the cast of my next words. ‘But, my lord, the lady who waits for you over the sea?’ There sounded a note of fear in the softly breathed whisper that the night carried to my ear. In an instant, before I could answer, Phroso came near to me and laid one hand on my arm, speaking gently and quickly. ‘Yes, I know, I see, I understand,’ she said, ‘and I thank you, my lord, and I thank God, my dear lord, that you told me and did not leave me without shewing me your love; for though I must be very unhappy, yet I shall be proud; and in the long nights I shall think of this dear island and of you, though you will both be far away. Yes, I thank heaven you told me, my dear lord.’ She bent her head, that should have bent to no man, and kissed my hand.